


Patchwork Doll

by MoonOwl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gamzee post meeting with Caliborn, Gen, Mild Gore, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:10:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonOwl/pseuds/MoonOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was like a little patchwork doll. Karkat could love and care for him with all of his soul, but Gamzee could never return the feeling. And time and time again, Karkat would still sew him up when he was worn out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patchwork Doll

“Hold still, you little insane clusterfuck.” Karkat ripped off another strip of bandages with his teeth and sighed. Gamzee was going to be a real piece of work with the shit he gotten himself into this time. Crusted with died purple blood, bullet wounds covered his lanky torso. He remained unhelpful to the situation as usual, leaving Karkat to clean up his mess.

“I can't bandage you if you continue to squirm like a dumb wriggler, and you're going to get an infection, and I'm not going to help you. You're lucky I'm helping you right now.” Karkat scolded. It wasn't true though. If Gamzee was in any danger of an contracting infection, he would already be screwed by now. Besides, if the bullets couldn't kill him, Karkat doubted that an infection could be anymore than a minor annoyance. Karkat also knew that he would still help Gamzee with the infection regardless. 

Gamzee simply grunted in response. He muttered something under his breath, probably referring to Karkat as a little bitch or something of the like. Karkat really did not care, so long as Gamzee stopped squirming so he could clean off the dried blood and patch his moirail...ex-moirail up. 

Karkat bit his lip and looked at what he had done so far. Gamzee was really banged up badly. Like, impossibly harmed, he shouldn't even be alive. And he didn't understand it at all. He knew that highbloods had higher resistances to harm, but Eridan and Feferi died. Gamzee's body was almost shredded to bits. With his horrendously fake wings, he obviously hadn't reached godtier. Karkat swallowed and tried to ignore how bizarre the situation was and to get back to fixing Gamzee's wounds. 

Karkat wrapped another bandage tightly around Gamzee's chest. Gamzee hissed at the feeling of constriction. “Oh come on, stop acting like a tiny grub, you survived these gunshots, don't you dare tell me you're in pain from bandages.” 

Gamzee shot him a slight glare. Karkat rolled his eyes in response. “For fuck's sake, you can stop just glaring at me, you haven't even said one audible thing to me yet today. Come on, you could at least give me a fucking 'thank you' after what I'm doing for you. It's not like I'm even obligated to care for you anymore.” 

Gamzee turned his head away from Karkat and moaned. 

Nope. Not this. Not some stupid “oh-I'm-hurt-pity-me” act. Karkat didn't need this, Karkat didn't deserve this.

“Don't give me this shit, Gamzee. You're the one who broke it off, this is your fault and it's your fault that you ran off and got yourself more holes than the plot of an a shitty action movie that spent too much of its budget on special effects. If you just stayed on the meteor and didn't fuck everything up like you always do, none of this would have happened.” 

Gamzee picked up the roll of bandages and started patching himself up. 

Karkat immediately felt bad. 

On one hand, this could have been a sign that Gamzee officially stopped caring about him and realized he didn't even want his help, but on the other hand Karkat could have legitimately hurt his friend. And dammit, even if Gamzee didn't see Karkat as a friend, Karkat still saw Gamzee as a friend.

“Give me the bandages back. You don't know what you're doing. I don't need to you break your ribs too.” Karkat took the bandages back and started working again. “You know, you smell horrible. I bet you haven't showered in a sweep, have you?”

Gamzee didn't answer. Not even an angry retort or a grunt. Looks like he really did just stop caring.

Sometimes, Karkat really hated Gamzee. He really hated how someone born with perfectly acceptable blood and perfect health could just throw his live away on shitty empty-calorie soda and mind-rotting pies at first and then on some senseless, violent, self-worshiping religion. He hated how Gamzee started out just as skinny and weak as him, but grew up to be big and impossibly strong while Karkat was left with a scrawny body, not even one with special powers. He couldn't understand how someone who would never know the fear of being culled could just go out and get himself almost killed on a regular basis, while he had to live knowing that even if he was never to be culled, he would still die much younger than any of his friends would have, had it not been for the game.

He hated how he used to be Gamzee's best friend, a label he pretended to hate but secretly loved. He hated how he once could pacify and pity Gamzee because Gamzee let him, not because he had too. He hated how that just stopped. 

What he hated most off all, is how through and through, he still pitied Gamzee. He felt like a ridiculous character from one of his melodramatic romcoms filled with unrequited pity, but that was his relationship with Gamzee. No matter what he did, how stupid he acted, how horrible he was, Gamzee would always invoke pity in Karkat. He was like a little patchwork doll. Karkat could love and care for him with all of his soul, but Gamzee could never return the feeling. And time and time again, Karkat would still sew him up when he was worn out. 

Karkat pressed a kiss into Gamzee's hair, not caring how disgusting and greasy it was. “I'll be done soon.” He whispered. Trying to be gentle, Karkat gently wrapped the bandages around Gamzee. Soothingly he shooshed as he wrapped. Occasionally he looked up at Gamzee, at his dull, uninterested expression. Karkat tried not to let the disinterest bother him. He cared about Gamzee, and that was all that mattered, even if Gamzee didn't care back. 

When he finished, Karkat rubbed little circles into Gamzee's back. “You should be okay now. Just don't go run off again.” However, Karkat knew that Gamzee would not stop running off, getting into trouble. He never would. And Karkat would patch him up again. Regret filled Karkat. Maybe this was payback for being such a shitty friend to Gamzee when he was still a lazy stoner, always yelling at him and distancing himself from any affection. If he couldn't have even been a good friend, maybe it was impossible for him to take on the bigger and more important task of being a good moirail. 

Karkat began to walk away, leaving Gamzee to return to his vents. But then, Gamzee surprised him-from behind, he wrapped Karkat in his arms, capturing him in a desperate hug. Karkat took a deep breath and leaned back into Gamzee's chest. He embraced the moment, not knowing if he would ever experience another like it. 

Gamzee mumbled into Karkat's hair. Karkat liked to believe it was a “thanks bro”.


End file.
